Destination
by Beboots
Summary: AU. Meryl and Millie, while investigating the disaster that is known as the Humanoid Typhoon, enter unfamiliar territory, and are in need of a guide. Enter Ericks, a onearmed slave who has an unusual obsession for donuts, love and peace.


Author's Note: I actually wrote this several months ago, mostly to get it out of my system, and it only just occurred to me I've never uploaded it up here (on my LJ, yes, but… ). I've also never uploaded any Trigun fanfic at all, actually, so I figure I'd better start now for the sole reason that Trigun is awesome. I'm in love with alternate universes, and regularly think up plots for them that I never end up writing (I'm so pathetic). That's a cue for you to pimp any of your A/U fics, by the way. ;) I may or may not continue with this, depending on what inspiration I get (or encouragement; because I know I hate it when I read the first chapter of an awesome fic and just want to slap the author for just leaving it unfinished). In all likelihood the next fic I'll write is another first chapter of yet another A/U (I have one in the works), so… yeah. Constructive criticism welcomed and, by all means, encouraged. So without further ado, on with the fic!

Destination 

Summary: Meryl and Millie, while investigating the disaster that is known as the Humanoid Typhoon, enter unfamiliar territory, and are in need of a guide. Enter Ericks, a one-armed slave who has an unusual obsession for donuts, love and peace.

When Meryl first saw the person that her partner Millie had procured to as their guide, she was (justifiably) hesitant to believe that the man would make it through the night, let alone be of any use to them.

Meryl Stryfe and her partner, Millie Tompson, were disaster investigators. They'd been sent by the Berendelli Insurance Society to track down the humanoid disaster known as Vash the Stampede, and to keep him under twenty-four hour surveillance to try to rein in the property damage claims that seemed to follow him everywhere, thus hopefully lessening the flow of huge monetary compensations that the company they worked for had had to pay to their clients already for Stampede-related claims.

The two insurance girls were by no means green in regards to this sort of work - they had a very good track record for claims investigations so far, and had even shadowed a few lesser-known miscreants before. However, the duo had never yet had to investigate something so long term, and so far away from the main office; Millie had never been more than two day's Thomas ride from December city, and Meryl herself had only once ridden (by bus) as far as September, a ride just short of a week long1.

With only the maps provided by the Insurance Society and directions from passersby to go by, the two girls were going nowhere, which is why they (meaning Meryl, because she was the one in charge here) needed to hire a guide.

They needed someone who was well traveled - they had to know the area well to be able to anticipate the Stampede's movements. Their guide also had to be able to willingly attempt to find the notorious outlaw, Vash the Stampede, which was where they ran into problems. Every possible candidate that seemed even mildly competent immediately refused the job offer as soon as they found out who they were supposed to be helping them search for, or went immediately for their weapons, assuming, incorrectly, that they were going after the famous sixty-billion double-dollar bounty - with the exception of one, who had been ruled out because his mom had called him home for dinner and cookies.

Meryl, frustrated at hours of fruitless searching, scouring the city of June under the hot suns, and returned to their hotel room for a break. Millie, however, had continued their search, and had returned as the first sun was sinking below the horizon with... this.

Meryl eyed the... (after close inspection of the sand-encrusted, bruised face) ... man in front of her, standing, supported by one arm by Millie. In the light of the remaining sun, he appeared to be an old, disheveled man. His white-black hair hung haphazardly just past his ears, framing the dirty face from which two bright green eyes peeked out from the brown (she couldn't tell if it was naturally that colour or if it was because of the layer of dirt coating every visible piece of skin). The stubble on his chin just added to his overall scruffy appearance. His slightly stooped body (standing straight, Meryl estimated, he'd be just about the same height as her partner, perhaps even taller) was wrapped in a shapeless brown cloth of some sort, which was draped all the way down to his ankles. He was trembling slightly (whether from some unseen injuries, as his black eyes and bruised cheek suggested, or from age, Meryl couldn't tell - perhaps both), and, she deduced, probably would have toppled right over had Millie not been clutching onto his right arm. Her stomach twisted when she saw that his left arm was absent from half-way down to his elbow onward.

Not just an old man, but a cripple.

"No, Millie."

"But Sempai, just look at him!"

"Yes, I know. He's quite pathetic." The short girl crossed her arms and eyed the man anew. His green eyes were wide and appeared to be watering slightly. She supposed he was attempting to look cute, starved, hurt, and useful at the same time. He was, as she had just stated, rather pathetic-looking.

"He's probably blind too, Millie." Meryl huffed.

The cheerful smile on his face (which revealed surprisingly white, straight, teeth) never wavered as he shook his head slightly, despite how painful it must have been, considering his bruised face and cheekbone.

"But Sempai!" Millie appealed. "I had to take him! He was bound for the Roderick gang slave markets - you know, those nasty men we heard about? He's been with a group of them for months, and has been beaten and starved and everything and you _know _he wouldn't get sold to anyone but the organ harvesters 'cause he only has one arm... And you said we needed someone who knew the area like the back of their hand! He's been wandering all over since he was very young." The man nodded and murmured an affirmation in a raspy voice. "He also said he's not scared to meet Vash the Stampede, and doesn't want the bounty. He matches the description of what you wanted, Sempai." She had to concede that yes, if what Millie said he said was true, he was what they needed. But when she'd asked for a guide, she expected him to actually be able to physically, well, guide - the figure standing/leaning against Millie looked like he'd have to be carried the whole way. But they _were _desperate...

"Fine. What's your name?"

He told her in a hoarse croak that seemed to be, from the few words she'd heard him voice, his normal manner of speaking.

She sighed in defeat. "Well, pleased to meet you... Ericks.2"

1 Umm... I don't have access to a map. Is September city anywhere near December? Oo;

2 Woot! Alias! Don't worry, Vash hasn't suddenly become an old man - it's twilight, plus he's dirty and hurt. He cleans up rather well.


End file.
